Feng Qibai pondered for a while, raised his face after a while, and shook his head slowly: "No. The buildings are too far away, let alone what you shouted, I'm afraid they may not be able to recognize you. And you were in Gewu Building before Shouting at the door, the voice drifted out along the innermost part of the avenue, there was no obstacle, now we are in the building, not to mention several floors, the location is still sandwiched in the middle, the window faces the Gewu Building, and there is probably a little bit of Luban Building. No movement could be heard.
"Then go to the roof," Wu Zhou suggested. "There are no obstacles on both sides. We can shout at this side before shouting at that side."
"Is there any other way than shouting in your gymnasium?"
"whistle?"
Feng Qibai sighed: "Can't it be separated from human body functions?"
Zhao He intervened: "Beating gongs and drums? There must be some too."
Feng Qibai was stunned, Zhao He awakened the dreamer with a word.
"Do you have one?!" Zhao He was not stupid, he probably understood it from Feng Qibai's expression.
Feng Qibai rolled his eyes: "Why do we need gongs and drums? Carving while cheering?"
"Then what's your expression?"
"Our college doesn't have it, but the Vocal Music Department does."
"Then what are you waiting for, do it!"
The three little friends did what they said, but the former students of the sculpture department on the third floor were not vegetarians. A group of more than a dozen people wandered in the corridor with carving knives, looking like young and Dangerous boys who are crossing the river like a raptor.
What's more terrible is that the corridor on the third floor is bright with moonlight, as long as they show their heads, they will be seen clearly.
"What should I do?" Zhao He stuck to the crack of the door, while closely observing the zombie patrol team, while analyzing the situation in a low voice, "Break in hard, it's probably hanging."
Wu Zhou Mao squeezed his waist beside him, and tried his best to look out through the crack of the door. Suddenly, he saw the red device on the wall not far away, and his eyes lit up: "Fire hose!"
The zombie seemed to be aware of the voice, and the last one suddenly turned around.
Zhao He was startled, and immediately closed the door and locked it.
The three of them went back to the back room to discuss—
Wu Zhou: "I think it's feasible. The impact of the water column is quite strong. It's no problem to block the zombies."
"Of course it's okay to stick it up," Zhao He hesitated, "but the premise is that the thing can be used? It looks like it's in disrepair and scrapped for a long time. Are you sure it's not a decoration?"
"Don't worry," Feng Qibai, who has been silent all this time, is calm and determined, "I don't know about the other buildings, but the fire hoses in Yixin Building are definitely easy to use."
"Have you ever used it?" Zhao He wondered, "I haven't heard of any fires in our school since I entered school."
Feng Qibai spread his hands: "It doesn't have to be on fire to use it."
Zhao He blinked ignorantly, feeling that he and the other party are not in the same world: "This is really a very magical statement."
"The fire hose is a very important performance art prop in our hospital. Sometimes the interface is not strict or there is a problem with the water volume and momentum, and it will be reported in time." Feng Qibai waited here for a while, feeling that Zhao He had almost digested it, and then Gently asked, "Do you understand what I mean?"
Zhao He felt that he understood, but he didn't seem to understand it thoroughly, but what he wanted to know more urgently was: "How often do you do it..."
"It depends on whether the performance artist's ending is a perfect absconding or an on-campus punishment. Oh yes, opening a fire hydrant without authorization is worthy of punishment."
"What's the difference between the two endings?"
"The former draws a colorful rest at the climax of this performance art, which means success, while a successful performance art will make latecomers lack of interest in repetition; the latter means failure, but Failure can stimulate people to go on, which is a respect for art and a dedication to art."
"..." Zhao He swallowed, and asked Wu, an audience member outside the venue, for help, "Can you understand?"
Wu Zhou scratched his head: "Uh, almost."
Zhao He: "Then can you give me a concise explanation in human language?"
Wu Zhou: "The two-year-old child is keen to make a big death."
Zhao He: "Good brother!"
The dragon king is stirring, and the water is overflowing with art.
When the violent jet of water sprayed out from the mouth of the fire hose, Zhao He found the spirit of being one man and one man!
A dozen or so zombies were stunned by the strong momentum, unable to stand up in embarrassment, Zhao He glanced at the two comrades who were still watching from the corner of his eye, and hurriedly urged: "Run—"
This urging even caused the body to deflect slightly. As a result, one of them lost control of the direction, and the fire hose let go of himself and went straight to the two comrades-in-arms. Poor Wu Zhou and Feng Qibai, before they even started running, they fell into a crystal clear and cold heart.
The innocent comrade-in-arms shouted: "Zhao He!!!"
Embarrassment and guilt overwhelmed Zhao He in a panic. What should he do
Snapped!
Zhao He felt the light bulb in his head turn on.
"Yeah, I'm here, I know you two love me, hurry up, go upstairs first, we'll talk later, be good!"
"..."
The comrade-in-arms didn't speak anymore, but just listening to the sound of footsteps, one could taste the depression and aggrievedness in it.
Seeing his comrades going upstairs one after another, Zhao He heaved a sigh of relief. Sure enough, it was right to choose Song Fei, that person is the most cunning, no matter who is right and who is wrong, whoever takes advantage of the right and who is wrong, he can always come to cover up the water and cover up the enemy and turn the danger into safety. It is simply a clean stream of bad guys!
Seeing that the timing was about the same, Zhao He decisively dropped the fire hose and rushed up to the fourth floor in one step. At that time, Wu Zhou was already entangled with the zombies on the fourth floor, and Feng Qibai used more skillful movements to connect to the hose and open the valve in the blink of an eye!
呲—
The three of them broke through the fifth and sixth floors of the painting department after the sculpture department. Compared with the sculpture department, the combat effectiveness of the students in the painting department plummeted, and they no longer had weapons by their side. Most of them were empty-handed, and a few were holding watercolor palettes or paintbrushes, which made Zhao He feel a little bit unbearable.
But in the end they got stuck on the seventh floor.
Then the fire hose on the seventh floor was really not tightened tightly, leaking more water than leaking out, and the lethality dropped sharply. Secondly, there were not only infected teachers on the seventh floor, but also some students from the vocal department who came down from the eighth and ninth floors. The zombie team grew inexplicably.
However, it is not easy for the team to accuse Feng Qibai of false propaganda, because the fire hose on this floor is indeed not in the category of performance art, and there are no students who have died to test it regularly! You must know that this floor is entirely the teacher's office. Once the whole teacher acts as a monster, the culprit and a student don't even need to eliminate the method, just take it down, and there is absolutely no possibility of escape.
That's why the battle on this floor was so bumpy. Before they finished fighting, the three of them had no choice but to hide in the women's toilet.
So in the following day, all three of them were surrounded by a subtle sense of shame. They tried to catch up on sleep, and forced themselves to close their eyes if they were not sleepy. The whole team was silent and peaceful like an angel.
Night came again.
Zhao He was the first to open his eyes, and said in a deep voice, "Are you ready?"
Wu Zhou's interface is almost seamless: "I can't wait!"
Feng Qibai didn't speak, but he got up and gripped the carving knife tightly.
Zhao He held the doorknob and asked one last time: "You really don't want to smear some zombie blood on your body?"
Two comrades in arms: "All, all, no, use!"
Zhao He sighed, opened the door and went out.
Those who achieve great things do not care about small details. Sure enough, not everyone is as heroic as him. But it doesn't matter, there is only one lord in Taoyuan, and he will be the leader of this group of dragons...
Huh? What about the second and third brothers
Uncle Zhao Huang who came back to his senses looked around, except for the zombies with their backs facing him in the distance, there were no comrades in arms!
"shh-"
There was a short reminder in the air.
Zhao He followed the prestige and finally found Wu Zhou's head poking out at the corner of the stairs at the other end.
The reason why he chose to act at night was to avoid fighting as much as possible. If it wasn't for this, Wu Zhou would definitely be forced to yell at him right now—you can go against him in two fucking directions!
Feng Qibai had already poked this thing into a jack-o-lantern in his head, so his heart was a little smoother, not as surging as Wu Zhou's.
Zhao He rubbed against the wall in embarrassment, and finally got back on track.
It is not difficult to fight on the eighth and ninth floors, but the difficulty is to find gongs and drums. According to Feng Qibai, the Department of Vocal Music must have these things, because they can be heard practicing every day. Although according to the department, the classrooms are all soundproofed, they are actually very disturbing. The classmate was unstable with the knife and reworked in various ways. But he couldn't tell where it was, after all, he wasn't in the vocal music department, so he basically didn't go above the seventh floor.
In this way, the three little friends can only search from classroom to classroom. Not being able to find gongs and drums is secondary. Five times out of ten, you can run into zombies, which is fatal.
The three of them can only rest when they are tired from playing, and then play again when they have enough rest. They use the most stupid method to conduct a carpet search. When they finally find the red Chinese style big drum in the lecture theater next to the piano room on the north side of the twelfth floor, the sky is fast. Bright.
The three of them knew in their hearts that they couldn't delay, but the scene in the auditorium still made them restless for a long time.
The classroom door was open, but when they locked it and were about to fight, they realized that there were no zombies inside, only corpses. Either leaning against the corner, or lying on the ground, or alone, or hugging, spots have begun to appear on the face of the corpse, but the loneliness and despair before death still hit the face.
Wu Zhou turned his face away and covered his eyes with his hands.
Zhao He felt sore in his heart.
It stands to reason that only the big drum belongs to the public property of the Vocal Music Department. Because it is inconvenient to carry, it is stored in the classroom all year round. All other musical instruments should be the private property of the students. But now, these flutes, xiao, erhu, matouqin, etc. are scattered on the ground in a mess.
This should be a folk band rehearsing.
How many days have they been trapped here? Did something happen suddenly during rehearsal? Why are there far more musical instruments than corpses? Did some people escape or turn into zombies? Under what circumstances will some people become zombies while others starve to death
Zhao He clenched his fists tightly, his palms were hot and humid.
There is only one possibility, some people starved to death first, and the other part couldn't hold on anymore, so they opened the door...
Boom.
The drumstick fell to the ground.
Zhao He and Wu Zhou looked up together, Feng Qibai was struggling to move the big drum.
His eyes were behind the bangs, theoretically speaking, he should not be able to see clearly, but Zhao He felt the determination in the other party's eyes by accident.
Feng Qibai didn't speak, but he already used his actions to let his comrades understand that the dead are gone, and the living still live.
Taking a deep breath, Zhao He and Wu Zhou stepped forward to help.
It is not an easy task to get the big drum to the roof, but fortunately they have the rope and Zhao He.
The latter went up to the roof first, and then Wu Zhou and Feng Qibai below tied the big drum and threw the other end of the rope upwards. Zhao He caught it steadily and pulled the drum up with all his strength.
Combining two classes of martial arts students, only Zhao He can do this. He is so strong and powerful, not to mention covering the entire university city, he is also enough to look down on this school.
If Feng Qibai and Wu Zhou didn't happen to push that zombie down the stairs, he might not have chosen Yixin Tower; if he hadn't chosen Yixin Tower, even if the two of them found Dagu, they might not have made it to the rooftop; but if Feng Qi didn't Bai, only he and Wu Zhou, not to mention Dagu, are lucky to be able to stand out from the hordes of Halloween-like zombies.
Therefore, Zhao He thought, the three of them avoided so many ifs, and finally gathered in Yixinlou, it was a destiny in the dark, and it was destined that the martial arts class would be able to survive from adversity.
The only thing I'm praying for now is that Qi Yan and the others haven't left Gewulou yet. After all, it was another night, and it would be dawn soon, and they would have already got the radio.
Boom boom boom boom—
Without guidance, Wu Zhou who picked up the drumsticks immediately turned into the Northwest Drum King, and only had to tie a white towel on his head.
Amidst the deafening drumbeat, Zhao He suddenly realized belatedly that their three-person team really had a lot of talk. After a night, most of the time is just doing, swearing, and poking. No one nags unless necessary. The roots of the ears are so clean that it makes people want to cry.
Sure enough, he still likes the minimalist class style of Mighty Unyielding Survival 2.
Wu Zhou pounded for several minutes in one breath, until his arms were sore, and he stopped under Feng Qibai's signal.
A large part of the sky has already brightened, but there is only the sound of the wind on the roof, nothing else, let alone any response.
Feng Qibai showed his Xiao calmly.
The two masters in the Department of Physical Education didn't notice when Feng Zhanyou got a flute. To be exact, they couldn't tell the difference between the fife and clarinet. They just looked at Feng Qibai's posture and obviously wanted to play The rhythm of getting up.
"Can this sound be louder than a drum?" Wu Zhou was a little confused, "Why don't I knock it two more times."
Feng Qibai shook his head: "It doesn't have to be bigger than the drum. As long as it can reach their ears, it's fine. The drum just now was the exam bell, and now it's the listening bell."
Wu Zhou wiped his sweat: "Can't you change the metaphor, I have a shadow on the English test now..."
Zhao He had no objection to blowing the flute, but Feng Qibai surprised him: "Aren't you from the Department of Sculpture, and you know how to play musical instruments?"
Feng Qibai didn't take it seriously, and explained lightly: "When I was a child, I learned a lot of miscellaneous things, such as painting, musical instruments, sculpture, dancing, and everything related to art, except for singing. At that time, I found that sculpture was the most confident, so I chose this professional exam."
"Brilliant," Zhao He didn't praise others easily, but Song Fei's shamelessness and Feng Qibai's almightiness made him admire him from the bottom of his heart, "If others are invincible, they just learn a thing or two. You are killing them all. Yes Is art so loving?"
Feng Qibai lowered his eyes: "There is a kind of learning that your mother thinks you should learn."
In the morning wind, the sound of the flute gradually rose, with low complaints and sadness.